The Darkest Desire
by Sharona1981
Summary: A POV one shot fic. Pinhead muses on his own dark obsession. A prequel to You Belong To Me


The Darkest Desire 

**(Pinhead muses on his own dark obsession. A prequel to You Belong To Me. I know the story switches between tenses sometimes but there is a reason for that. I hope you can make sense of it. I do struggle to write Pinhead so if he's not in character I apologise.) **

Humanity.

It has continued to fascinate me, long after my own human existence came to an end. Its desires, its predictability, its inconsequential mutterings in the face of forces much more powerful.

I, the Dark Prince of Pain, the Black Pope of Hell, Favourite Son of Leviathan the Lord of the Labyrinth, has spent decades, along with others of my ilk, discovering what makes humans whimper and cower, discovering their desires and fears, their greatest agonies and ecstasies.

I have listened to their exquisite screams of pain and pleasure, blurred into absolute indistinction. I have been the implacable face of utter indifference against the agonies of their personal Hell.

Humans, it seemed, held no more surprises for me.

Until...HER.

My first encounter with Kirsty Cotton seemed, initially, to be as anticlimactic as all the others. Her pleas for clemency, her protests of innocence, her pathetic tears; none of these held my interest. But then, she spoke of another, one who had evidently escaped us: Frank Cotton.

When she had, without hesitation, bargained her soul against his, and offered to lead my subordinates and I to him, in exchange for her, I freely admit that my interest and curiosity were finally piqued.

How could I have known that, on that same night, she would also awaken my desire? It seems strange now, but she stayed. When we took Frank Cotton back to Hell, she stayed, to see the outcome. She was curious, even in her disgust. And I wanted to feed that curiosity, to nourish it.

Leviathan have mercy, I wanted HER. Not as a human wants another; I wanted to take that succulent, youthful flesh and manipulate it into something beautiful, a work of art. But in the end, she escaped me. And I cursed her, and myself, for the lost opportunity.

The second time she called us, she claimed she sought her father, but I could still sense her curiosity, and a need so well-concealed, she wasn't even aware she felt it.

So defiant, so courageous, even when faced with the horrors of Hell that I was only too willing to show her. I told her I had eternity to know her flesh, and I meant it. I still wanted her.

ALL of her.

And then, something most unexpected happened. Kirsty restored my humanity, the humanity of my subordinates, with the help of a single photograph.

A photograph of the human man I once was-Elliot Spenser, Captain.

In a rush, I remembered, while taking in the sympathy lurking in her eyes. The newly created Channard Cenobite defeated us easily, and as I was stripped of my demonic attributes, and was fully human again for the first time in decades, I let Kirsty run. I let her escape me for a second time.

However, even as I fell with my followers, I somehow knew that this, too, was destiny. A catalyst for something far greater. Perhaps I wanted to save her-as I felt she had saved me. Or, perhaps, I was letting her go in the surety that she would return to me.

I did not die, of course, but went on, resuming my role as the Dark Pope, reclaiming my rightful place at Leviathan's right hand. I did not know why I had been restored and the others had not, but I had long since learned not to ask questions of my Lord.

Among the many assets of a Cenobite is their limitless patience, and I am no different. I was willing to wait a lifetime for Kirsty to come to me.

And she did, some years later, thanks to the pathetic, insipid human she took as a husband.

Trevor brought her the box, knowing she could open it, knowing she WOULD. He wanted her dead, so he could claim her inheritance, but, OH, he could not have had the slightest inclination of the connection she and I share...

She is older now, but still defiant. Still utterly beautiful. And so exquisitely pliable.

Denying to the end that she wants what I offer her, she offers me five souls in return for hers, just as she offered me Frank's soul as a bargaining tool all those years before. But I can see it clearly, the desire, the desperate need she is struggling so gamely to hide. However, she could never hide anything from me-I can look into the depths of her decaying soul as if it were as transparent as glass. She wants this. She wants ME. But still, she remains in protest.

She wants to give me five souls; three women her husband partook of in acts of lustful wantonness. A man with whom he plotted to kill Kirsty. And the fifth soul...why, Trevor himself, of course.

At first, I want to refuse, to tell her that I have waited long enough for her. Perhaps I am no better than Trevor, for my desires now are all too human. I want to possess her, make her my mate, rule all of Hell with her by my side.

She is mine. She will forever be mine.

But first, she needs to admit that truth to herself. And then, she will be able to admit it to me.

And so, I have released her again. But she has not disappointed me-she has brought the souls to me as she promised, and she is free.

For now.

However, there will come a day, very soon, when Kirsty will return, when she will summon me again to her side. And we both know when that day comes, there will be no more souls, no more bargaining. I will settle for nothing less than her, and we will finally fulfill our destiny. And then, my sweet Kirsty...

It will be time to play...

**THE END.**


End file.
